Mr. Gardiner and the Governess - Sally Britton Page 0,64

go down to breakfast and do mind your manners. Be clever and polite so your parents will know I am doing my best.”

They replied with their usual “Yes, Miss Sharpe” together, then went down the corridor, laughing and talking of their excitement to see their brother again.

Alice leaned against the doorway, and she watched a moment as the nursery maid tidied up the young lord’s bed. Her name was Jenny, but beyond the occasional “yes, miss” and “no, miss,” she had little to say to Alice.

For a moment, Alice imagined what it might be like to count the young girl as a friend. To speak of the children in their joint care, perhaps laugh about Lord James’s antics and Lady Rosalind’s continual talk of courtship.

She moved away, down to the schoolroom, where she had her vase of flowers and a sheaf of sketches to cover in paints and inks until the paper plants were all the correct hues.

An hour of careful work left her eyes strained, even behind the spectacles which aided her in such close work. She sat back and removed the wire-framed glasses to massage her temples. With nearly two hours until the children returned, Alice had time to spare. Almost as much as she would on a half-day.

Alice stowed away the paints and sketches, then she went in search of another occupation. Something to let her eyes rest. And, feeling rebellious, she left her spectacles off.

They were not strictly necessary, and perhaps the strain upon her eyes had as much to do with wearing the glasses when it was unnecessary as it did concentrating on detailed painting.

With that justification as her shield against censure, Alice left the children’s corridor and went down the long picture gallery. The duke’s ancestors, and a rendering of the scowling regent, watched her cross the grand carpet all the way to the main staircase.

Although permitted to use the sweeping marble steps, doing so without the children always felt a touch wicked. Governesses were not to be seen except as they were required to be in attendance of their pupils.

But no one saw her, servant or otherwise, and she slipped directly out the main door.

Alice wandered down the long, curving lane that brought travelers up to the castle. She had not spent much time on that side of the grounds. All of her time with the children, and with Rupert, had been on the opposite side, in the gardens.

The pretty lawns of green on either side of the drive were dotted with sheep, and a few dairy cows in the distance. The whole of the scene penetrated her lonely heart. The whole of the world stretched around her, and no one noticed or cared where she walked or where she went.

As it had been the entirety of her life.

Until Rupert.

He had noted her, remarked on her intelligence, then praised her talent and made use of it. Not to be cruel, or to further his ambitions, but in a sincere effort to work with someone he deemed interesting. Then he saw more.

He saw her.

Alice caught sight of a daisy growing along the drive, tall and slim among the grass. A little bee hovered near a moment before landing, causing the flower to sway. Would Rupert know what sort of bee it was? Would he think it worthy of a sketch, or had he already captured the likeness of one of the bee’s sisters?

Alice’s smile twitched, then she had to laugh. Rupert had seen her, had noticed her, because he was in the habit of paying attention to details and creatures others deemed inconsequential. Daisies and wildflowers, moths and spiders, Rupert saw them all. He saw beauty and fascination in things others walked by without notice.

She had to have faith that a man with such an ability, even if he had left without word, would not forget her in his time away.

Even if he had been away for over a week.

And she missed him.

“No one told me the family had any members of the fairer sex as guests,” a deep voice said from behind.

Alice whirled around, a hand coming up to her throat. She had not heard the tall gentleman approach. He wore black riding boots and a dark blue coat, a tall black hat, and a broad grin.

She dropped her gaze to the ground at once, as she had been taught to do since girlhood when confronted with a man not her relative or servant. “Pardon me, sir. I am the governess.”

He would scoff